


the methods of linguistics

by Ro29



Series: Messing around in the Soft Wars Sandbox [19]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bral Feels, Brothers being assholes, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Introspection, Light Angst, On Language, Star Wars AU - Soft Wars, a bit - Freeform, brothers being brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro29/pseuds/Ro29
Summary: The thing is, it’s notonlythose outside of the squad who can’t read Bral’s sign.It’s Faie too.
Relationships: CC-5869 | Stone & CC-4477 | Thire & Clone Commander Thorn & Hound (Star Wars) & Faie (Star Wars)
Series: Messing around in the Soft Wars Sandbox [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937752
Comments: 7
Kudos: 85
Collections: Open Source Soft Wars





	the methods of linguistics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/gifts), [SailorSol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorSol/gifts), [Everything_or_Anything](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everything_or_Anything/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Art of Grafting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913433) by [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506). 



> this was an interesting little study for Faie to help me learn him a bit better and get in his head, it's a varying success XD 
> 
> i just.... i have a lot of Emotions about them now
> 
> for the prompt; Faie and batch mates

The thing is, it’s not _only_ those outside of the squad who can’t read Bral’s sign.

It’s Faie too.

The sign, Stone had mentioned off hand, was made over the course of years. Formed and honed specifically to help reach out to the brother they gained after losing Faie.

Hound and he are similar in that, the fact that they are both orbiting just a step too far out of reach for the rest of Bral.

Bral squad speaks to each other with quick flicks of fingers that aren’t Standard and Faie can’t understand them any more than they can understand the things that have made him up in the absence of them.

It stings, though he knows it isn’t supposed to.

If he was feeling particularly cruel he might say they were doing it on purpose.

But no — Thire flicks something irritated at Stone that makes Thorn snort and Hound’s lips twitch up and then glance up at Faie like he’s waiting for something — it’s not that they do it on purpose, just that they never stop to think that he doesn’t know it.

They think of him as Bral, and in their heads it means he must already know this strange sign they’ve cobbled together out of care and love, takes them a second to remember that he doesn’t, has no frame of reference for this language they’ve created that he can’t speak.

If he was feeling cruel today, if he was feeling blank and vicious and missing the way blood curled metaphorically between his teeth with sharp words, then he might take that soft thing they’ve all offered up to him, rip it out of them to make himself feel less like a piece of debris floating out in space alone. Close but never close enough, an outsider, marked by this lack of knowledge and constantly losing in this competition of time.

If he was feeling cruel, he might’ve done a lot of things.

He’s _good_ at cruel, good at a lot of things, the _best_ at some of them.

This is not one of them.

Hound realizes first.

Hound — Faie has realized — notices lots of things, doesn’t say much about them, just tucks them quietly away for when it’s needed.

Hound realizes first and he looks away from Faie, flicks eyes down to his hands and waits, quiet.

The rest of them follow quickly after.

They don’t do it on purpose, but Faie has never managed to be particularly kind.

“Keeping secrets is a bit rude isn’t it?” he asks with a tilt of his head. His lips curl up into a smile, sharp, the edges of it jagged and the air is tense.

It’s not their fault, it doesn’t make it sting any less.

Hound doesn’t look up at him.

Once, maybe Faie would have hated him, that cadet that failed out of Davin’s training and snuck his way into the hearts of what was left of Bral squad. Maybe he could’ve despised him for that even still. For being better at it than he ever was, for winning where Faie had lost years ago.

Sometimes he thinks that maybe he does a little.

But Hound is easy to understand, makes _sense_ in a way that Thire and Thorn and Stone don’t anymore.

He doesn’t hate him, but he could, and Hound has always seemed far too aware of that fact.

It’s not fair, little is.

Faie doesn’t hate Hound, has come to care for him in the same fierce way he does Bral.

But one’s left feeling a little out of orbit when things like Bral’s sign come up, and Faie is no different.

Faie rolls his eyes, bumps shoulders with Thorn on one side and Hound on the other.

“Oh please, you’re all more dramatic than the karking _Shebse_.”

The noises they make are sweet in their protest and spluttering defense.

The tension drains.

Stone grins, relief curling around the edges, “Well, I've gotta get you back for ratting me out to Fox _somehow_.”

Faie has done no such thing and Thire has donned a face _far_ too innocent for Faie to believe.

Hound blinks, lip twitching up and moves his head slowly away not to draw attention to it.

Faie raises an eyebrow, and Thire blinks, carefully doesn’t look at Stone.

Faie sighs, he has never been more disappointed to be related to someone. Stone, if this was indeed a medical thing, should’ve _known_ it was Thire.

Even _Faie_ knows that it’s probably Thire, and he hasn’t properly talked to any of them more than a few times since the war started.

Thorn snorts, unsubtle as ever and his hands move as if to sign something out, stutter to a stop and then continue smoothly to shove Stone’s arm.

“ _Di’kut_.”

Bral has always tried their best in everything they do. Thorn and Thire and Stone, all three of them have always tried so hard to reach out and steady those around them. It’s just unlucky that in doing so they’d made the road a little longer.

If he was feeling cruel—

But he isn’t, and Faie does not come by kindness naturally anymore — hasn’t since he stepped into the ring with Priest and left with bruises ringing his throat and arms, hands shaped around the throat of another — but he is trying.

He is not good at losing, not good at not knowing what to do, but Hound is a solid weight at his side for all that he is still unsure and Thorn presses careful against his other side. Stone laughs and Thire rolls his eyes and there are too many moments that ring awkward still, where they move to sign and only just switch to speaking but—

It doesn’t feel like ripping into someone’s heart, his heart, anymore. Doesn’t feel like setting a goal in front of himself that he knows he will never reach like Priest used to like to do.

It’s within reach, this thing, and Faie is trying to be careful as he reaches out for it.

He’s not very good at gentle yet, but he’s Bral still, despite everything, which means he’s good at the trying at least.

He tries to put away the cruel parts of him and only really half succeeds.

Bral doesn’t mind, they roll through it easy, adjust when necessary, adapt and reach out with patient hands.

Faie tries not to crush them with how tightly he grips back.

Of all of Bral, only one of them doesn’t understand the sign they use, never once does Bral seem to think about letting him drift away because of it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to find me other places I have a [writing tumblr](https://rose-blooms-red.tumblr.com) and a [fandom tumblr](https://themessofthecentury.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please come yell at me about Star Wars and DC!


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